Zaren had watched the completion of the second-tier dungeon and prepared to strike down whatever being would step through its gate, no doubt an interloper in this system. He had watched as one of the tainted stepped through, alarms ringing in his head. It was impossible. It couldn't be. How had one of the advocates of the undead empire, one of the legions of the tainted, managed to make their way into his system?
He fired message after message, both to the High Arbiter Shokan and then to the Archive itself, as he drew his arcane weapon and prepared to step through to the planet for the second time in two days.
Zaren, sentinel vanguard of the Archive, found himself unable to do so. It was as if he was being restricted—another power, no, authority—clamped down on him with vice-like control. He wrestled with it; eyes wide. This was his system, his domain, so to speak. What power could dare to hold him hostage?
Then a swirling hole of white light, an aether gate opened up, right within his station, without his authority once again. Out stepped the High Arbiter himself, Shokan, dressed in the white and golden attire of the vanguard. His gaze was cold and undaunting before breaking into a soft smile.
"High Arbiter," Zaren said with a cautious bow, no small part of him relieved but also ashamed that such a situation could happen under his watch.
Another part of him, one that had started with a budding sense of apprehension, steadily grew as his mind raced through different possibilities.
"Zaren, I received your message, although I remember expressly telling you to let the situation handle itself. It is simply something below your station," Shokan chastised softly.
"Indeed, High Arbiter. Although, with what I have just witnessed, I believe you might be inclined to see my view," Zaren argued. With a wave of his hand, he displayed the image of the tainted.
The High Arbiter's gaze remained neutral, the sense of apprehension Zaren had been feeling steadily growing.
"I see. This truly would be a cause for alarm, but all under the purview of the Archive, I believe. Some sort of trial," Shokan said with an air of indifference.
"I do hope you hadn't disturbed high command for such a frivolous case as that of a single advocate of the tainted?" he asked.
Zaren found himself hesitating. Why had the High Arbiter been so adamant about him not contacting the Archive itself?
"Of course not. Such would be in violation of going above one's superior, in this case, you," he replied, a slight smile on his face.
"Good, good. I'm glad you see that too. We must let events play out in this system as they were meant to. Who knows? You might obtain a letter of recommendation. Perhaps a certain arbiter considers your talents too good to be wasted as a simple system warden?" Shokan said suggestively.
Zaren's heart sank in that moment as he shut his eyes for a brief second, calming himself before standing straight and staring at his superior.
"Our reward is service to the system," he recited, the mantra of the order.
"Of course, of course. I merely stated that in passing. Surely a young warden like you would want to advance quickly, or perhaps you care for other forms of rewards? A trial world of your own, maybe some far-off backwater feral system on the brink of being disposed of by the system?" Shokan pressed calmly.
Zaren said nothing for a brief, tense second, merely inclining his head with a smile.
"Of course. I thank the High Arbiter," he replied calmly.
"Think nothing of it, Zaren. You have been loyal, both to me and the order. Let us speak no more of this for the time being," Shokan said as he prepared to leave through the same aether gate he had used to appear. But a chime echoed through the station.
"Message from Archive High Command," the station's construct voice announced as Shokan froze.
Zaren opened his HUD, reading the message in a blink as he drew his weapon. The entire station exploded around him in one raw bang of power as he floated in the cold void of space, cradling his nearly broken arm.
Zaren stared at the glowing form of his superior, Shokan, peak expert rank and ascender of the path of the Glorious Claw. Sheathing the traitor's arms were golden gauntlets that ended in claws—the arcane weapon forged from the body of some great aberrant of the void.
"Those orders never came from the Archive, did they?" Zaren snarled as he drew his blade to its full strength. Rune-crafted from the flesh and blood of a void fang, his authority took the shape of the great beast. His mantle, a shimmering eye, manifested above his head.
Even with all that, Zaren knew he stood little to no chance against the peak expert. Even as an expert himself, the gap in strength between them was nothing to scoff at. But he wasn't aiming to win the battle.
"I tried my best to shield you, foolish child," Shokan said as he raised one claw. Alarms began to ring in Zaren's head.
"You would side with the tainted? You would spit on all that we have fought for?" Zaren roared, gathering his power. Mana and intent swirled together, fusing into the path of the Burning Edge. His very form exploded into a conflagration of pure flames, each flicker a deadly edge of intent.
"The old order is teetering on the edge of despair, young one. The monarchs sense the dawn of a new age, and you have foolishly sided with the embers of a dying era," Shokan shrugged.
"Or you're just stupidly greedy and seeking to condemn an entire system to the wrath of the Archailect," Zaren said as Shokan's eyes darkened with rage.
"You intend to stall for time. I will not give you that luxury," Shokan replied as he swung his claw down at Zaren, appearing mere meters from him as he twisted space to his bidding, no doubt using a great amount of authority and aether to boot.
Zaren noted this as he fought for his very existence. The High Arbiter intended to end the fight quickly, and Zaren needed to buy time for whoever the Archive would undoubtedly send to help. That was the only choice—a choice worth sacrificing an arm for. He bit back the pain of losing it, gripping his arcane weapon in his other hand. The two clashed within the wide expanse of space itself.
"You hope the Archive will send someone. No doubt they will, but it will be too late. Already, the armada of the empire stands at the edge of the system, ready to conquer it as per the regulations of the Archailect itself. This will be another front in the great war—one to finally tilt the balance our naïve commanders would have you believe we're winning," Shokan crowed.
Zaren felt a shudder of cold trepidation run through him. Could it be possible? Had the empire sneaked so close to his system, protected by Shokan, and bypassed the extended security of the Archailect?
A loud boom rang as Zaren stared in horror at the large aether gate that exploded into being. Shokan chuckled, Zaren in his grasp. There was little a silver-tier expert could do in the face of a diamond-ranked expert. Forced to watch the fleet of the empire about to pass into the system, Zaren lamented his failure and betrayal by his kin.
Except, no armada passed through the aether gate—at least, not at first, and not even whole. A single figure, almost a tiny speck, stepped through the gate, floating into the system. Shokan froze, trembling, eyes wide with panic.
Zaren chuckled, then laughed as Shokan threw him aside and struggled to tear open an aether gate of his own. But he couldn't—nothing could, not in the presence of the being Zaren had only seen in murals and recorded videos.
And from behind this exalted being came the shattered remains of the dozens of vessels of the undead empire, nothing but crushed debris floating into the solar system. Zaren went down on one knee, grasping his bleeding stump as he bowed, feeling the resurgence of raw aether with the presence of an Overseer.
"I welcome the great Overseer, Lord Xander," he said, relishing every word.
The tall figure in red and golden robes, eyes burning red, red hair, and a presence of pure aether, chewed the stalk of some plant. His eyes glanced around before falling on Zaren.
"Which one of you idiots thought it would be a good idea to break their oaths and side with the tainted?" he asked calmly.
Zaren laughed as Shokan wailed in terror.
[The third wave has begun!]
The message slammed into the collective consciousness like a bell tolling doom. Toxic fumes seeped from the forest depths, accompanied by the chilling shrieks of aberrant creatures. Standing atop Bastion's walls, Moyo narrowed his eyes and glanced back at the assembled defenders. Martha nodded at him, then clapped her hands sharply.
Crates of glowing white liquids—healing elixirs—were swiftly distributed to the intent users preparing for battle. Idris, the hulking general of Bastion, stood at the forefront, his massive double-sided axe resting on his broad shoulder. Moyo had initially mistaken him for an aura user, but Idris's command of intent marked him as a devastating force.
Where Josh had fought with unrestrained ferocity, Idris exuded a calm, disciplined aura. Moyo silently appreciated the contrast. If Josh embodied raw, untamed strength, Idris was a blade honed to perfection—a leader whose every movement radiated experience and control.
The trees shuddered as grotesque creatures emerged, their large jackal-like forms spewing clouds of poison. Their rotted skin glistened with toxins, their slavering jaws snapping as they charged toward the defenders.
"Prepare yourself, Samantha," Martha said softly. "I have a feeling your station will soon be overwhelmed with the wounded."
Moyo's gaze flicked to Martha, noting the deep concern etched into her face. Evidently, she had seen something troubling. His hand instinctively rested on Ida, debating whether to intervene.
Martha stopped him with a firm shake of her head. "No. They need to face this. He needs to face this," she said, her eyes locking on Idris.
The general stood unmoving, his gaze fixed on the approaching aberrations. With a steady breath, he raised his axe high, silver intent radiating from him in rippling waves. Then, with a burst of incredible speed, he shot forward, his movements fluid and deliberate.
Moyo observed with quiet interest. Idris's sheer speed hinted at significant investment in dexterity, a smart allocation for an intent user wielding such a heavy weapon. His axe cleaved through the creatures with precision, each swing accompanied by an explosion of silvery power.
The poison spewed by the creatures was mitigated by the elixirs distributed earlier. The defenders fought valiantly, holding the line as Idris commanded them with sharp, efficient orders. Unlike Josh's chaotic battlefield, Idris brought discipline to the fray, orchestrating a methodical advance.
From the forest emerged the wave boss—a towering, two-headed abomination belching thick clouds of green poison. Idris's forces faltered momentarily before he barked an order, pulling them back in an orderly retreat. He glanced at Moyo atop the walls, their eyes meeting briefly.
Moyo nodded once. "Ayo."
With a crackling roar, the skies above erupted in a dazzling display of elemental fury. Bolts of fire, lightning, and frost rained down on the aberrants, decimating their ranks. The defenders scrambled back to the safety of the walls, carrying their injured as the remaining creatures were left to contend with Moyo.
The Titan descended like a force of nature, shattering the lines of aberrants with each step. His sheer presence sent the lesser creatures scattering, their corrupted forms writhing in terror. Even the wave boss hesitated, its twin heads roaring in frustration as Moyo obliterated its remaining forces.
Satisfied that the defenders were safely within the walls, Moyo stepped back, allowing Idris to take center stage.
The two-headed creature lunged for the general, its massive jaws snapping inches from his head. Idris moved with purpose, his axe singing as it sheared through one of the heads in a single devastating strike. Green ichor spewed from the severed stump, the abomination reeling as its remaining head roared in fury.
It stomped forward, attempting to crush Idris beneath its massive limbs. The general sidestepped deftly, his axe cleaving through one of its legs and sending the creature crashing to the ground. With a final swing, he severed its remaining head, the monster collapsing into a heap of dissolving aether.
Idris stood victorious, bloodied but unbowed, his axe gleaming in the moonlight.
As Moyo began to relax, a sudden surge of power rippled through the air, setting his nerves on edge. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as his hand instinctively gripped Ida's hilt.
"Martha," he barked, his voice sharp.
She turned, her face pale. "A terrible presence is on our world," she whispered, leaning against Annika for support.
[World notice: Your world has been upgraded from a Tier 1 Mundane to a Tier 2 Nascent world!]
"Martha, upgrade the stronghold. Now!" Moyo ordered.
Annika didn't hesitate, grabbing Martha and floating her down into the heart of Bastion. The leaders hurried toward the main building, the stronghold's core glowing with pulsing energy.
[Zones of power have been created on each continent. The true race for power begins!
All Tier 1 dungeons have been broken.
Waves have been canceled.
Tier 2 dungeons are manifesting.]
Moyo frowned, his mind racing. Tier 2 dungeons on a world so recently ascended? The implications were troubling.
[Continent 1 notice: Due to the presence of the Tainted, Continent 1 has been sealed off from the rest of the world until the Taint is destroyed, or the continent itself is purged!]
Gasps echoed through Bastion. The defenders exchanged uneasy glances. They were on Continent 1. The Tainted were here.
[An advocate of the undead empire has established a stronghold within Continent 1. Ascenders have three days to destroy the necromancer's stronghold!]
As the message faded, the air around Bastion thickened with aether. The stronghold rumbled, its walls expanding outward, growing taller and stronger. Massive towers emerged, each bristling with defensive mechanisms. A swirling portal of fire materialized within the courtyard.
Boyle, standing nearby, stared at the portal in awe. "The trial of fire," he murmured, his voice distant. Without another word, he walked toward the gate, passing through it as the flames consumed him.
Martha emerged moments later; her eyes wide with urgency. "You all need to see this," she said, her tone grave.